Flat Tire
by SomniumAngel
Summary: Murdoc chuckled. It's funny... That you would use the word exist. COMPLETE MEANS COMPLETE
1. Rain and Zombies

Author's Note: The average person has about 3 to 5 dreams per night, but some may have up to 7 dreams in one night. The dreams tend to last longer as the night progresses. During a full 8-hour night sleep, two hours of it is spent dreaming. REM sleep is the deepest level of sleep we can reach, and it is this stage that we remember our dreams the best. I had a crazy ass dream the other night. And went something like this...

Chapter 1:

English summer rain.

Not as magical as everyone makes it sound. It's dark, humid, the wettest of wet, and it lasts forever. The people seem to have accepted it, maybe. That's the way it seemed to the girl as she drove through the streets of Crawley. People were out and about in the rain, some even without umbrellas. The rain was an old friend they had all seemed to come to know and love and accept. She, however, was not so fond of the hot rain that continually fell from the sky.

She was bound and determined to find Camden High Street, but had been driving for hours without any success. Every time she stopped for directions she was told to go a different way. Aggravated, the girl just decided to drive until she could find a sign that might give her a general idea of her location. Essex. Eventually it grew dark, night fell over the British planes, and still the rain fell from the sky. After what seemed like an eternity of driving, she reached a place that could only be described as the boonies. The area was an empty, ugly, desolate area of nothing. Giant jagged boulders in the dirt field created looming shadows which sent chills down her spine. Headlights clicked on, illuminating the cracked and rugged road that lay before her.

A loud pop.

She lost control of the car as the wheel jerked from her hand. She felt the front corner of the car drag against the road. The car stopped. She got out, immediately getting soaked in the rain. She walked around the front of the car and expectedly found the front right tire to be flat, a gaping slash in the tread. She sighed. After putting the vehicle in neutral, she attempted to push the car. Unfortunately, the wet surface of the car made it difficult for her to get a grip and her hands repeatedly slipped. The car continually got stuck in the mud and grime that started washing over the cement of the road, along with her feet. She soon decided her efforts were futile, especially since she had no idea where she was going or where the closest vicinity was. A bright flash of lighting revealed a building sitting atop a hill. Assuming it to be a house of some sort, she decided to head up to it and use their phone.

Once she found the front gate, she started the trek up the ghastly, steep, unusually high hill. Frustration quickly set in. The ground was not in any way foundationally solid. The mud around her feet often shifted beneath her, causing her to slip back down a few feet. Her pants and shoes grew heavy as they soaked in with water. The heavy rain made it almost impossible to see the many number of broken hedge stones that littered the grounds. Hot, throbbing pain shot up her leg each time her shin or ankle collided with a stone marker.

She glanced up towards the building and was disappointed to find that she had only made it halfway up the dreaded hill. In the middle of a heavy sigh she felt a hand fall on her shoulder. She looked to see the yellow stained pearly white color of human bone, the five skeletal fingers gripping tightly. Slowly she turned her head. Her eyes were met with a hollow socket and one decaying eyeball sitting loosely inside a cracked skull. Strands of hair and dried blood adorned it's cranium, rotting flesh and spare pieces of a burial suit hung from it's limbs and rib cage, discolored saliva dripped from it's teeth and swollen tongue.

She let out a blood curdling scream.

Like a shot she was off, running madly towards the building she now hoped could serve as a sanctuary. Already her presence had stirred the undead from their slumber. Countless bodies emerged from their graves, reaching out for her. Her back leg sunk horribly into a thick patch of mud. Desperately she tried to pull it out, a moaning corpse grabbed at her ankle in the process. The denim of her jeans ripped as she jerked her leg away, she had escaped for only a second, but already there were more descending upon her. She felt a sharp pain in her forearm when one sunk it's teeth into her flesh, another scratched at her exposed shin and calf, and yet another still attached itself around her waist trying to gnaw through her shirt.

"Get off!" she screamed.

Once more she beat them away and ran for the house. Finally she reached the cement porch. Lights on in the window. People! She beat against the door, screaming for someone to answer. She noticed a stray arm clinging to her waist. In the process of detaching it from herself, she ripped the hem of her shirt. She sighed, disappointed now that her favorite cami had been ruined. The emotion was quickly taken over by panic as the undead corpses caught up with her. Again she pounded on the door, crying out for help. She turned her head to try and remove the rotting body from her back and save herself from being bitten on the neck. Suddenly a light washed over her. She looked back towards the door with a grateful smile on her face, but the smile immediately vanished and her eyes widened at the sight of the gun that was aimed at her face.

The man in the doorway was just as frightening as the undead threatening to eat her alive. His black shaggy hair created sharp shadows on his face; His glaring eyes were grossly discolored with yellow and red. His flesh was a greasy olive green, almost matching the color of his teeth which bore together in his malevolent grin. She winced when she felt crooked teeth sink into her neck, but she was more afraid of the man and his gun.

"Please," she begged, almost to the point of tears, "Don't shoot me."

The man's grin turned into a solemn frown when he realized the young woman was not one of the undead that often plagued his home. He gazed upon her with sincere regret. "Sorry love."

There was a loud bang. Blood splattered as a bullet pierced through her left shoulder and into the head of a corpse. Another shot, more blood from her waist, a second corpse fell to the ground. Another shot, blood trickled down her right leg, a corpse that was trying to crawl out of the ground fell back into the dirt. Hot, blinding pain screamed through every muscle fiber and vein in her body. Her leg gave out and she dropped with a heavy thud against the cement. Then everything went black.

"Bloody hell, Muh-doc! Wot the hell 'appened! There's blood everywhere!" 2D shouted, his hands ruffling into his scalp.

"Nice one. Why don't you try expanding on your vocabulary there some face ache?" Murdoc stood at the sink washing the red goo from his hands.

"That still doesn't explain what 'appened, y'basket!"

"Listen 'ere mate!" Murdoc pointed to the taller male, flinging water all over the floor. "Don' you be callin' me a basket, arsehole! Nuthing happened. Those damn creepers came up to the studio again and I had t'take care of it! Savvy?"

2D fell silent and nodded his head. Murdoc then went back to washing his hands. After a minute or two, 2D started to speak again. "Muh-doc, you sure y'okay? Y'seem kind of -" he was cut short when he felt a tug on the hem of his shirt. 2D looked down at Noodle who pointed to the vacant corner of the kitchen. "Blood and sand!" he shrieked. In the corner was the unmoving, mud caked, bloody body. 2D began to panic. "You let one of them in! Bugger Muh-doc!" His arms flailed about in utter frustration. "Wot th'hell is wrong wif you!"

"What are ya'll screamin 'bout?" Russel asked, having heard the commotion from his room.

"He bloody well let one in!" 2D shouted. "I may be a fan of their movies but I don'wanna get eaten by one!" He turned back to face the older man. "Seriously Muh-doc. Wha' the hell possessed you to let the bloody fing in? You of all people should know -!"

"She's not."

"Say again?"

"She ain't one of them creepers." Murdoc dried his hands with a dishtowel. "She's a person. She was at th'front door, getting eaten by 'em. So I did what I had to."

2D's arms dropped to his side. His head tilted in a mixture of disbelief and pity. "So you shot 'er?"

"I shot those damn creepers is what I did!" Murdoc snapped, he wasn't in the mood to be scolded by any of them. "She was in the way! What else was I s'pposed to do?"

Noodle had wandered over to the motionless body in the corner. She'd been poking it hesitantly for a minute or two, and then she nudged it a bit harder with her foot. The pressure caused more blood to ooze from the already open wounds. The Japanese girl screamed and ran to Russel's side. "She is not being dead!" Noodle shouted up at the large black man.

"Say what?" Surely she was dead. "Calm down, Noodle. You're just imaginin' things." He patted the top of her head. "C'mon shorty, yo' a big girl now -"

Noodle beat his hand away. "I am not stupid! If she was being dead the blood would not be... be... be doing the gushing!" Her arms exploded into the air.

2D walked over to the assumed dead girl. He crouched down, the knees of his long legs coming up over his head, and he examined the body. "Crikey, Noodle is right! Bloody hell Muh-doc!" he repeated the tired phrase, "You didn't even check to see if she was still alive or not?"

"Not my problem," the man replied, looking lazy eyed at the body on the floor and then at 2D.

"Not yo' problem? You cracka' ass. You just shot through her a few times and decided to drag her through the studio? Fo' kicks or somethin'?" Russel said.

Murdoc's eyes fell closed and he growled. "I'm done here." He then walked out of the kitchen heading for the carpark where his Winnebago resided.

"Wot do we do wif her?" 2D asked. Unfortunately, Russel had left, following hot after Murdoc, and Noodle had set off to cleaning the trail of blood from the lobby to the kitchen. The young man looked at the girl with his dark eyes and sniffed. For a long time he stood there, just staring in silence. Finally he sniffed again, crouched down, and picked the body up off the floor. Even though he was normally the gentle type, the excess blood made 2D nervous so he ended up carrying her around like a rag doll under one arm, having to hike her back up every once in awhile as she slipped.

"I don' see why I have t'do this. Muh-doc's the one who shot 'er. M'always the one left wif cleanin' up his messes." Low aggravated grumbling started to vibrate in her ears. "Jus' cause I owe ya' my life don't mean y'can go 'round treatin me like ya' bloody door mat. Wanker..." The girl opened her eyes. At first everything was a spinning blur, but slowly things came into focus. Keybords, posters, flickering green, blue, yellow, and red lights on the ceiling. Finally she could make out the appearance of the pale, shaggy, drone-like man who sat beside her on the bed.

"ZOMBIE!" she shrieked.


	2. Black and Blue

"Zombie!" 2D in turn screamed, "Where!"

"Stay back, zombie! Stay back!" She picked up the box of band-aids she saw on the floor and chucked it at the man's head.

"Ow!" 2D rubbed the spot on his forehead where the box bounced off and then fell to the floor. "Wha're you doin?"

"I don't want to be eaten by zombies! All I wanted was to visit Europe, see the sites, visit Camden High Street, feed the frikkin pigeons!"

2D slowly reached towards her. "Listen, calm down. M'not a zombie. If you would just -"

"Get away!" she shrieked again. Having no current memory of being shot, or even aware that she was hurt, the girl pushed herself up off the bed and tried to run.

"Wait! Don't -"

Blinding hot pain shot up her leg. The girl felt as though she would vomit as she went crashing into the hard floor. She breathed heavily through her mouth as she waited for the pain to dull away. Even when the pain was gone she didn't move from her spot on the floor. She felt a warm hand touch her arm.

"You okay?"

She didn't say anything. The girl felt cool liquid building in the corners of her eyes, so she turned her face into the war machine decorated rug.

"Are you sad?"

She shook her head.

"Are you scared?"

She shook her head again.

"Do you hurt?"

Once more she shook her head.

"Then why're you crying?"

"I don't know..."

"That don't sound like a very good reason."

"All right... I guess I hurt... a lot."

"M'not surprised." 2D pulled his hand back and his arms rested on his knees. "Y'got pretty messed up."

She rubbed her eyes and turned her head just enough to show the corner of her face. "What happened?"

"Murdoc said you were gettin' eaten by th'zombies. He used a gun t'save you... sort've. I guess. He shot ya a couple times. There," he pointed to her leg, "and there," he then pointed to her waist, "um and there," he pointed to her shoulder.

The girl looked at her leg. The banadge work was of poor quality, the pieces ripped, hanging loosley, or just in aggravated knots. She was about to complain but then she noticed the obscenely large, bright yellow shirt she was wearing, which was safety pinned in the back so as not to fall off her shoulders. "What am I wearing? Where are my clothes!"

"I had t'put 'em in the wash. They were a bit rubbishy, dirt and blood and whatnot. That's one of Russel's."

The girl was aggravated with the way she was being tended to. She was convinced the man had to be an arrogant idiot. She looked up at him to yell, but she stopped. 2D stared back at her with his vast black eyes, but despite their seeming emptiness, his eyes expressed a concerned curiosity. Suddenly she realised that his efforts had been innocently genuine, and she couldn't stay angry with him. "Um... thanks I guess."

"Don't you wan'to know about th'ova' one?"

"Other one?"

"There." His long knarley finger grazed over the band-aid on her neck. "That's where the zombie bit ya. I s'ppose it hurts the worse."

She flinched. "Could... could I have my glasses? I can't see well without them."

"Oh, right. I'll just be a sec."

When he stood, 2D towered high over the girl. "Wow," she whispered, "You're tall."

"Yeah. I guess I am. I've been told I'm about 5'11" maybe 6 feet. I don' fink about it much." 2D picked her glasses up off the nightstand then walked back over to the girl. "M'2D, or Stu, Stuart, Stu-pot, or you can call me D if you want." He scratched the back of his head. "Um... you hungry?" She nodded. So 2D knelt down and picked her up. Now that she was clean, he was more willing to cradle hold her in his arms. "I guess I could give you a tour of th'studio. Th'kitchen is three floors up. Um, this is my room, it's in the basement."

Having expected to be bored by the "tour," the girl was actually surprised at how interested she became by the studio. She wasn't exactly expecting a cinema, cafe, bowling alley, or shooting range to be housed is the giant, grey, ugly, and most of all creepy builiding atop a hill. Of course she hadn't expected to be half eaten by zombies and shot by a green-skinned stranger either. As interesting as the tour was, the girl found it difficult to keep her focus on the man's voice. 2D spoke with an awkwardly high-pitched voice that was hard to listen to, not to mention his incessant incoherent mumbling.

After getting lost once on the ground floor because 2D couldn't remember which corridor lead where, they finally made it to the first floor and to the kitchen. "Excuse me." The girl tugged on the collar of his shirt to be sure she had his attention, she had figured out by now that 2D had a screw or two loose. "Why didn't we just stay downstairs and use the kitchen there?"

The blue-haired man stared at her for a moment, almost as if he was having to use all his brainpower to analyze the question she had posed for him. When the look of deep meditation turn into blank idleness she started to take the question back, but he interrupted her. "The one downstairs isn't really that much've a kitchen," 2D answered, "There's a mike-row-wave in there... and I fink there might be sum popcorn or summink in the cabinets. We mostly use it t'store extra instruments an' junk an' wot not."

"Oh, I see." 2D walked into the kitchen. It was there that the girl saw the sliding glass door that lead out onto a small patio deck. She noticed the sky was no longer pitch black, but instead there were rolling grey clouds illuminated by the sun on the other side. "Is it daylight already?" she asked.

"Wot? Daylight?"

"Yeah," she pointed to the window, "You know. Day time, as in, not night time."

The blue-haired singer walked to the glass door. He attempted to reach out his arm to open the door, but quickly realized he would drop the girl in the process. He then tried to nudge it with his foot, but this attempt also failed due to the door being locked.

"Do you want me to get it?" she asked, noticing his building frustration.

"No, no... No, I can figure it out," he answered. Finally he turned to the side, bent his wrist, then unlocked and slid open the door. Surprisingly enough 2D had not forgotten the original purpose for wandering onto the patio. He looked up into the sky and sniffed. "Huh, I guess it is day. You were uncon... unkonshy... asleep for a long time. I guess I forgot."

The girl stared in disbelief at the giant mountains of garbage and raw filth the stretched endlessly behind the studio. "Oh my God..."

"Hm?" 2D looked out at the wasteland, not quite sure what she was looking at.

"Let me guess this straight. You live in a studio, in the middle of nowhere, with a zombie infested graveyard out front, and a landfill in the back?"

2D smiled, revealing the gap from his front two missing teeth. "Yeah," he shrugged, "But it's a happy landfill." The man took her back inside and sat her in a chair at the table.

Again 2D seemed to be thinking, hard, trying to remember why they had come to the kitchen in the first place. He stood for what seemed like an eternity. His dark eyes would look at the girl, then at the floor, then at the ceiling and cabinets, and then back at the girl. She was about to remind him when suddenly he exclaimed, "Food!" 2D turned around and started rummaging through the fridge. All that he could really find was the gooey brain that had been there since before he could remember a detached finger, and various rotting fruits. He figured if he didn't want to eat such things, the girl probably didn't either. "Um... do y'like..." He rummaged around through cabinets and cracked jars. "Do y'like, like... candy?"

"Candy?" she repeated.

"Yeah, candy. See... Ya don' want wot's in th'fridge. But the only otha' fing I have is candy." 2D held out his hand, it was full of Jolly Ranchers. "M'sorry. I hope this is okay... But don't tell Muh-doc!" he said pleadingly. "He don't know I'got me own stash. Y'see... it's kind've a secret. But you're nice. I like ya'. So I'll share wif you."

The girl smiled and took the candy. "I appreciate it Stua- um... 2D..."

The man sniffed and then took a seat on the other side of the table. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switch blade. Once he flipped it open he started scratching at the underside of his fingernails. "I need a gun, to keep myself from harm," 2D mumbled the bouncy tune to himself. "Da da da da dee dee da da dum... I need da dum... cos all I do is dance." The girl was surprised at how well the man could sing, considering his awkward speaking voice. She'd had a hard time believing him when 2D had told her he was the lead singer in a band. "I need a gun, da dee da dum from harm. The poor people da dum dum dum... I need a gun..."

The girl watched as 2D stared intently at his nails, working the knife roughly beneath them. She found his black eyes peculiar, never having seen eyes like them before. She knew the sockets weren't hollow, empty, voids in his head because she could see the light reflecting in them. "Um 2… 2D?" The girl still found the name awkward. "What happened to… Why are your eyes like that?"

The Melodica male lifted his head at the question. He stared at her, again. He was thinking, again. Suddenly afraid she had offended him; the girl popped another candy into her mouth and sucked on it vigorously with her head turned down. "I was in an accident," she heard him say. The girl looked back up at the man. "Muh-doc, the guy you met earlier, the one who… Muh-doc, he's our bassist now y'know." 2D realized he was getting sidetracked. He paused, sniffed, and then continued his story. "I was working in this music store, right? Then one day, his buggy comes crashin' fru the window. The bumper, on the front of'the car, y'know, hits me square on the side of me 'ead. M'pretty sure that's how I lost ma teef too. So, anyway, I got into a coma and everyfing, and Muh-doc has t'take care of me. It was either that, or prison." 2D took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "One way or anotha' Muh-doc gets me into another accident. I get this second crack in me skull right? But it knocked me out'of the coma. That's why they call me 2D, cos I got two dents in me 'ead. I guess long story short, y'know that black dot in your eye? Mine are constantly die…dial… dilated, cos of the cracks."

"That must be horrible. How can you call that man your best friend after everything he did to you?"

"B'cause he saved my life."

The logic in his answer was painfully flawed, but she decided to let it go. "Does it hurt? I mean your head injuries."

"Bloody hell does it ever!" he exclaimed. "I get these headaches, crikey, all the time! I just take a bunch of painkillers and I'm fine. I zone out sumtimes, but it's worf it."

The girl sighed. Suddenly all of Stuart's awkward tendencies made sense. She started sucking on another candy when Noodle walked into the kitchen. "Ohayo, 2D-kun," the little Japanese girl said with an absent wave.

"Um, konnichiwa?" The girl greeted Noodle, hoping that her Japanese wasn't too rusty.

Noodle closed the cabinet and turned around holding a soda. "Konnichiwa. Genki desu ka?" she asked, gesturing at the woman's leg.

"Ah, Daijobu. Arigato," the older girl answered. Noodle smiled and then she walked out. "Oh my God, she was so cute! 2D was that the girl you told me about? Noo-" She looked to where 2D had been sitting, but oddly found him missing. Where did he go? How did he leave in such a short time without her noticing? Assuming the man would return shortly, the girl just remained in her seat. After awhile, though, 2D didn't come back, and girl realized she was going to have to get around on her own.

She struggled to grab a stick that was leaning in the corner. She wasn't sure why it was there, or why it was broken on one end, but she didn't really care. The girl managed to hobble around the studio, eventually making her way to the carpark. She hoped to find her car there. If the men couldn't fix it, hopefully they at least brought it in out of the rain last night. The girl came across Murdoc's Winnebago and was about to knock on the door. However, she soon discovered the vehicle to be shifting back and forth. "When the van's a-rockin, don't go a-knockin," she muttered to herself, and returned to the search for her car. Having only made it a few feet, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. The girl turned to be greeted by the same face that shot her. She had chills at first, but they gradually subsided. "You're Murdoc, I assume."


	3. The Truth

"That's right, love. And you were right to follow your own advice back there; you would have caught me in a little self-gratification," he said with a smug grin.

"Oh, gross…" she groaned, her nose wrinkling.

The green-skinned man looked her over. "I see Stu-pot did an ace job." Murdoc turned and walked back towards his Winnebago. "C'mon chicky," he waved over his shoulder, "I'll fix you."

The two sat on Murdoc's bed. He had removed all the bandages and was now rewrapping them in a neater fashion. Now that she had a more competent human being to talk to, the girl was rambling on about 2D. "It was annoying is what it was. You know what I mean? I wake up to find my limbs wrapped in white knots, my clothes missing, and this creepy tall guy talking to himself. Not exactly a warm welcoming."

"That's D for ya'," Murdoc said, not making any effort to hold back his sneers.

"He doesn't even bother to ask me my name. That's just common decency."

"Well, love, the reason he didn't ask yer name is because he already knows who y'are." He fastened the bandage on her leg. "We all know who _you_ are. We know everybody who knows _us_."

The girl rubbed the bridge of her nose. "That doesn't even make sense. How can I know someone I didn't even know existed?"

Murdoc chuckled.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"It's funny…" Murdoc pushed his fingers against the girl's. He nudged at her fingers until her hand lifted up and his palm pressed against hers. It was obvious that there was no affection in his gesture, but there was a feeling like he was desperately trying to tell her something. "It's funny, that you would use the word _exist_."

"What does that mean?" She looked at him and then at their hands. She just couldn't see it.

"I know who you are," he said. "You're a good person." As the man spoke, the girl got the feeling was completely out of character. "You dream a lot, but that's okay. Where would I… we be without them? But you just have to remember to wake up sometimes."

She still didn't understand. The man seemed completely detached from reality. However, that statement really belonged on her. She didn't see the differences between her and the man, between her and the place she was in, or even between her and clothes she wore. "You're not supposed to be like this," she said in a low voice.

"The hell I'm not!" Murdoc exclaimed and pulled his hand away from hers. "But I'm only going t'behave the way you want me to. That's the way the game is played, love. If you want me to be meself, you gotta let me." He scratched the inside of his leg. "And I'd bloody damn well appreciate it if you did."

"My head hurts." The girl pressed a palm to her forehead as her eyebrows came together in her frown. "I… I gotta go…" So she stood, grabbed the stick, and started making her way back into the studio.

Murdoc followed her out into the Winnebago kitchen and watched her leave. Once she was gone he took a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. "Well, now that that's over." He took a swig from the bottle.

Back in the studio, the girl was rummaging through 2D's medicine cabinet. She would take a pill bottle from the little shelf, read the label, and then take one. She didn't really care what kind of pain the pills were for, just as long as one of them would make her feel better.

"Wot are you doing?"

Startled by his voice, the bottle she was currently holding dropped to the floor and the little blue pills scattered all over the floor. "I was just… I'm sorry. I should have asked first. I'm sorry."

"I gave you sum Advil earlier. Does your leg hurt again?"

"Um, no." She put a pill on the back of her tongue and swallowed "Not really."

"Y'know you shouldn't take those unless you're in pain."

The girl glared at him. Suddenly she slammed her leg against the bathroom door and shouted, "There! Now my leg hurts."

"C'mon, don't be like that." 2D reached for the bottle she was holding. "These aren't even the right kind of pills. All of 'em are mine, and all of 'em are for a different kind of pain. You shouldn't be taking any of 'em."

"I don't need a lecture _Stuart._ I've got pains, these pills will make the pain go away. That's all I need to know and all I care about." She started opening another bottle.

"You can't take that many."

"Oh please," the girl snapped, "You can't possibly expect me to believe you don't take all these. You told me you did, what's the difference?"

"They won't kill _me._"

"Ha! Won't kill you? You mean like an overdose?" She laughed in frustration. "So… so let me get this straight. You could swallow all these pills, right here, right now, and nothing would happen? But if I… if _I _were to take just a few, I'm as good as dead." The girl swallowed yet another pill. "And all because, this is the good part, because you aren't real. Am I right?"

2D scratched the back of his head. "Well, yeah."

"What a load of bullshit! You know your psycho friend Murdoc said the exact same thing. You all aren't real. Then what the hell, I'm not real either. We're all just the figment of some wasted, doobie blazing, pill popping teenager in an alternate universe somewhere!"

"But you are real."

"No! Don't give me that 2D! Don't dump your twisted logic on me!" Her fingers started picking out another pill.

"Quit it Sarah!" 2D yelled. When the man shouted her name, the girl paused in shock. Luckily she stopped just long enough for him to grab her. The girl tried to jerk away, but he wouldn't let go. All the pill bottles that lined the edge of the sink went flying to the floor. "Don't you get it!" He held her in front of the mirror. "Look at us! Look at you! Look at me!"

She stared at their shared reflection. What she saw, she didn't want to believe. Murdoc's words echoed in her mind. 'It's funny, that you would use the word exist.' She saw the dull, natural colors of her face and hair, and the bold, single shaded colors of his. She saw the rounded shadows that fell across her features, and the painted ones on him. She noticed the lack of the touch sensation she thought had been there all along. "It's not fair…" she said sadly. "Both you and Murdoc, you had to go to the extremes, had to be something different so that I could see the truth."

"M'not as stupid and cowardly as everyone finks I am." He let her go. "But it is true, we weren't quite ourselves this whole time. We were only acting th'way you wanted us to."

"The subconscious is a real bitch…"

"We know you'd like us t'be real. A lot'f our fans do. Life's harder for you though, isn't it? That's why you came here and made all this up."

"I don't have any friends 2D! I have one mental quirk and they all decide I'm a problem they don't want to deal with! It's like… I'm that spot on the rug that everyone pulls the couch over and pretends isn't there! That isn't fair!"

"No, it's not. But you ain't gonna solve your problems by popping pain killers and waiting for it to go away. And you can't spend the rest of yer life running back here to us. You can once in awhile, but you don't want to lie to yerself and think this is all real."

"I know that… I just really like you guys. This whole Gorillaz thing is just so cool. It relates to everything that I love, I just feel happy here." She had been staring at his black eyes for the past few minutes, but now she looked away. "You know… It's stupid, but I had a dream once, that I loved you. _This_ is the dream though, so I guess that was reality. I thought that I could love you."

"You still can."

"Yeah right, sure I can."

"You can love everything I represent. You can love my concept, my composition, my inspiration. You can love my music. Hell, you can even love my image if you want. Girls used to love Speed Racer didn't they?"

"2D, that was my mom's generation. Like, 25 years ago."

"The point is that there's no shame in loving an image. After all, Jamie and Damon made it a point to make us as human as possible. So go for it."

"2D?"

"Wot?"

"Will you sing 'Punk' for me?"

Author's Note: Basically that was when I woke up. I dreamt some other weird shit, but it wasn't that important. Wasn't that fun!


End file.
